


All Fun and Games

by bananabog



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Blowjobs, Incest, M/M, Noisy Sex, Public Sex, Swearing, Twincest, and your shoes get so hot you wish your tired feet were fireproof, obscene eating of an innocent ice cream, young dumb and fulla cum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-06-04 11:39:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6656365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bananabog/pseuds/bananabog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“You know what, screw her,” Stan grouses, after three hours of waiting in the sun, and on their feet, and still no date in sight, “we’re already here, an’ I don’t wanna have wasted the fuel. You and me, we’re going on a date.”</i>
</p><p> </p><p>11 x 100-drabbles of the teen!stans going-on-a-date-but-not-really-except-it-totally-was.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Fun and Games

**Author's Note:**

> Based off prompts on my tumblr, a culmination of:
> 
> 1) the twins having public sex  
> 2) suggestive footplay  
> 3) going on an actual date around various carnival attractions at the Jersey boardwalk

“You know what, _screw her_ ,” Stan grouses, after three hours of waiting in the sun, and on their feet, and still no date in sight, “we’re already here, an’ I don’t wanna have wasted the fuel. You and me, we’re going on a date.”

Ford splutters, beet-red. “ _Excuse_  me?!”

“Ya heard me.” Stan gives him a slow, devilish wink and god damn Stan, and god damn his inability to say no to his twin, and his heart thunders a hundred miles an hour as Stan takes hold of his hands and tugs them back towards the carnival, grinning. “Let’s go!”

x x x

They’re eighteen but they might as well be eight. They get some odd looks as they go around the carousel, on the slow, non-terrifying kiddy roller coaster; as they walk away with cotton candy the size of their heads; as Stan buys an armful of throwing balls and lobs them all simultaneously at the stacked cans in the game booth.  It’s cheating, of course, but how often did people win from there, anyway? They walk away with the grand prize, a giant stuffed toy that looks like the abomination of a purple platypus and a panda, laughing all the way.

x x x

It’s a warm day. Naturally, this means ice cream.

They squeeze into an already crowded picnic bench. The family beside them is full of screaming toddlers and gossiping housewives and bored fathers who would obviously prefer to be home.

Ford jerks when something brushes against his crotch. It’s Stan’s foot. He glares at his twin. The other simply runs an ice-cream-covered tongue slowly along the length of his spoon and purposefully lets some leak out from the corners of his mouth.

Stan hates vanilla.

Stan got vanilla.

Ford scowls, face heated, as Stan continues teasing his sneaker into his groin.

x x x

“You’re _sure_ ,” Ford intones again. They’re next in line for the ferris wheel. It’s Stan’s last chance to back out or never. “You absolutely, _definitely_ want to ride this.”

Stan’s grin is wide and two-hundred-percent fake. “’course!”

They get into the car and it instantly sways from their weight. Stan takes an immediate seat, his grip on the plastic white-knuckled.

“Go on the other side,” he says tightly, when Ford tries to sit beside him, “don’t wanna unbalance it. Might fall off when we g-get to the t-top – ”

“You had your chance,” Ford smirks, but he does as requested.

x x x

Stan’s hyperventilating.

They’re barely a _quarter_ through the first rotation.

They have two and three-quarters more to go, and the ride is agonizingly slow. Ford rolls his eyes and shifts forward.

“What are you – ” Stan stammers, his fear of heights temporarily suspended by the very rare sight of Ford on his knees between his own, “what the hell are you  _holy shit you’re not._ ”

“Holy shit, I am,” Ford murmurs, pointedly tugging down Stan’s fly. Stan’s soft, but it isn’t going to stay that way for long.  

Stan’s forgotten where he is by the time they reach the peak.

x x x

The ride.

Is agonizingly.

_Slow._

Ford’s cool as a cucumber as he sits back. Like he wasn’t just giving Stan the blowjob of his life seconds ago.

Stan’s sure he either looks like he’s running a fever, or battling severe constipation, or both. He’s terrified as hell because they are UP IN THE AIR and PEOPLE COULD SEE and he STILL NEEDS TO COME but he’s also _insanely turned on_ , and it’s like his brain has just straight up resigned, his dick whistling cheerily as it takes control effortlessly.  

They finally… finally pass the boarding point.

“Rotation two,” Ford hums.

x x x

He’s still hard as iron when it comes time for them to exit the car and it sure as hell isn’t staying that way for long either.

He practically drags Ford down to the beach with him, stumbling as they run, to the deep, alluring safety of shadows under the boardwalk. He shoves Ford back against a wall and mashes their lips together.

“Need you,” Stan pants, when they finally break away. He runs fingers over the bulge in Ford’s jeans. “ _Want_ you.”

Ford simply nods, fast and jerky.

“Take me,” he whispers. Stan whimpers loudly. “Right here… Right now.”

x x x

Stan has lube and a condom at the ready and Ford will question this thoroughly later, when Stan _isn’t_ fingering and scissoring him like he’s lost an expensive ring in there.

They both moan wildly with delight as Stan finally pushes in. Ford’s hands scrabble against the wall behind him, legs squeezed tight around Stan’s waist as he groans and pants around the sweet stretch of Stan’s cock inside of him, but his brother keeps his grip on his hips sturdy. Stan gives his twin roughly half a minute to adjust before he starts pistoning.  

He won’t let Ford fall.

x x x

“Louder.”

“STAN!”

“That’s right.” Stan sucks at the sensitive hollow of his neck and Ford keens, cock twitching between them as he continues bouncing against the wall. “I want everyone to look. I want everyone to see you, see _us_ – see me fucking the daylights outta ya and knowing they can _never touch you_. That I’m the only one who can. You’re _mine_ , Sixer.”

 _“Fuck, yes,”_ Ford gasps and Stan rumbles, deep with want.

“Love it when you swear.”

“FUCK!” Ford cries, encouraged. He winds his fingers into Stan’s hair and tugs hard. “F-Fuck, _fuck me_ , Stanley, shit! Fuck! _OH!_ ”

x x x

Their gasping is obscene, amplified by the structure of their surroundings.

Stan leans his sweaty forehead to Ford’s collarbone, heaving for breath. “Jesus. Shit. I can’t believe…”

They both burst out laughing wildly. It’s high and giddy and they’re both so fucking _happy_ it’s ridiculous.

“Endorphins and adrenaline,” Ford chokes, breath hitching a little as Stan twitches where they’re still joined. He giggles and tries futilely to muffle his laughter into Stan’s hair, no longer slicked and neat. “Oh, god. Let’s do that again.”

 _“Yes,”_ Stan agrees.

He kisses Ford, tenderly this time. They close their eyes and melt together.

x x x

“You didn’t have a date at all, did you?”

They’re strolling on the boardwalk, perhaps above the place they christened. Stan goes rigid.

“What? Of course I did! That’s ridiculous.”

Ford rolls his eyes and squeezes Stan’s hand a little tighter until he yelps. “The lube, knucklehead. The condom I fully expected, knowing you, but…”

 _“I’ll have you know,”_ Stan says hotly, already caught, “that lube isn’t _just_ for the people who can’t produce their own.”

Ford just grins, shark-like. “Carla said you never asked her out. Neither did Beatrice. Nor Marilyn, nor Goldie, nor – ”

“God fucking _damn_ it!”


End file.
